Bring Me to Life
by Belle'srose
Summary: After denying the truth for so long, a night of turmoil reveals a truth that can finally save her. Oneshot


**Bring Me to Life**

How long had it been? Days? Months? Years? She couldn't remember. The last...however long it was, was a blur. Time had ceased to have any meaning. The last thing she remembered was the man at the door, the telegram in his hand and the expression on his face. Designed to show sympathy and comfort in a moment of distress, it had only revealed the horror. That day, whenever it was, had brought her world crashing down around her.

Susan Pevensie lay across her bed, her head resting on her arms, eyes closed, the tear tracks still showing along her cheeks. How long she had lain there, she didn't know. How long she had been crying, she didn't care. It seemed as if her eyes hadn't been dry for ages, a lifetime. She had never felt pain quite like this before. Her seemingly short life had been one of gaiety - parties, outings, boys, makeup...carefree, but she knew differently. It was all a mask, a mask hiding a pain that rivaled the pain she was feeling now.

It was easier then. At least then she could pretend it had never happened, that it had all been a game. She had never told anybody how much she had hurt that last day in Narnia. Yes, Susan had remembered. She had remembered just as well as the others. Just as well as Lucy who was forever talking about the fauns and the trees and the dances they had attended. Didn't she see how much it hurt Susan to remember? Didn't she see the pain just hidden in the depths of her eyes? No. Of course not. Susan had hidden it behind another mask - anger, annoyance, exasperation. Silly children to go on pretending like that. Couldn't they see it was all a game they had made up for amusement? Before long she had, herself, begun to believe it, to believe that it was, in fact, all a game. Believing it wasn't real was easier than believing the truth - the truth that she would never go back again.

This pain though, this pain she couldn't will away. This pain was staring at her. A harsh, cold, lonely reality. They were all gone. Never again would she hear Lucy's carefree, joyous laughter. Never again would she see Edmund, serious, yet with that twinkle in his eye that never went away. A twinkle that revealed the lighthearted, caring person beneath the somber exterior. Never again would she hug her father or kiss her mother goodbye. For they were gone forever. Jill, Eustace, even the Professor. Gone. And Peter. Peter who was always so strong, caring, loving. Even when she hurt him with her flippant annoyance and condescending remarks, he never gave up on her. Never acted like he loved her any less. This pain she couldn't pretend wasn't there. It was all-consuming, taking over her mind and body and effectively shutting her down. There was nowhere to hide.

Yet, thoughts, unbidden, came to her mind. Thoughts of the game they used to play, Peter, Lucy, Edmund and herself, reminding her of a time of joy and peace and complete happiness. Funny how that game brought to mind such lovely things when they had made it up amidst a war torn time. A time that should be reminiscent of fear, longing and loneliness. Slowly, she was starting to remember. Memories, fleeting and incomplete, bits and pieces of the whole accosted her mind. She remembered her castle, her room, her clothes, her land, her country. A country that, once upon a time, she would have given everything for. Even her life. She remembered the fauns, the centaurs, the gryphons, the naiads and dryads. It was all coming back, and this time, she couldn't will it away. With remembrance came realization. The game she had thought they made up… It wasn't a game. The truth that she had hidden away, the truth that she had always known was there, came hurtling back into the forefront of her mind. It was all real. She really had been a Queen.

This realization didn't make it any easier. Now she had to come to grips with reality.

The others hadn't realized. They hadn't seen how much she was hurting. When Aslan - the name brought on another sob of anguish - had told her and Peter that they would never again enter Narnia, the others didn't see the depths of the hurt. Peter handled it so much better, but then, he was always strong. They didn't see how much putting Caspian on the throne had torn her up. The agony that flowed through her when she realized that their time was officially over, that it was another's turn to rule. Then, to hear that she would never again go back, that she was too...old. The heartache had threatened to overcome her. She couldn't let them see that. Pretending was so much easier.

She couldn't pretend now. The truth, however horrible it was, would not be pushed down again. It reminded her of Edmund, always a man of truth. No matter how much it hurt, he would never hide from it. His face came to mind now, and new sobs burst forth. How had they managed to go on? Did the pain ever go away? Did the burning in their hearts ever diminish? What had made them capable of carrying on? How come they had never collapsed in a heap because of the loss? She knew how hard it was for Peter to help Caspian, harder than it had been for her. She knew the torment he had gone through. It hadn't been easy for either of them, the knowledge that Narnia was forever lost to them. What had made him carry on? How could he remember? These were questions she couldn't answer.

She lay there, unmoving, eyes closed and, as it usually happens when you are worn out and alone, she fell asleep. The healing quality of sleep didn't come for her though. Instead she dreamed. She was there again. Back in Narnia, the one place she swore she would forget; but dreams cannot be controlled. She was standing on the shore of the sea, facing East. Her skirts were rustling around her in the breeze that blew the salt air across her face. It was a typical spring day, her favorite type of day. She was all alone. The usual hustle and bustle that surrounded the castle was gone. As in real life, there was nobody there for Susan. The tears that hadn't stopped as she slept carried over to her dream. They fell down her cheeks, splashing onto her gown. Would there ever be anyone for her? The loneliness she was feeling threatened to engulf her, turning a dream into a nightmare. She would always be alone.

"Susan." The voice, coming from behind her, stopped her heart. She knew that voice. It was a voice of love and comfort, one she would know anywhere, in her home, in Narnia, or in a dream. Slowly she turned. Aslan stood there, glorious and golden. His eyes were sad, as if he knew why she was crying and cried with her. "My dearest, you've forgotten me."

It wasn't an accusation. It was a statement of a fact that she knew in her heart to be true. Of course she had forgotten him. It hurt the most to think of him. It wasn't Narnia so much that she missed, it was him. To never see him again, that was what she truly couldn't handle. She couldn't answer, couldn't look at him. The sorrow was almost overwhelming.

"Susan," he said it again. Gentle. Loving.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She was. Seeing him standing there before her, she could no longer deny his existence.

"Dearest, do you trust me?"

Startled, she looked up, "Of course!" No matter how hard she had tried to deny it, how hard she had tried to erase it, she just couldn't forget how loving, how gentle and how trustworthy he was. Another memory, from seemingly far away, forced its way back to her, one that she had tried the hardest, and thus been the most successful, to forget. Aslan, on a stone table. The White Witch, triumphant. Aslan glorious in the morning sun, fully alive and fully conquering.

As if he could guess the train of her thoughts, he smiled at her, the gentle rumble that served as a purr rolling through his chest. "Do you trust me enough to believe that all these things will work together for good?"

Abruptly her mood changed. How is this good? How is taking them away from her going to do anything? In what way did this serve any purpose? How was this helping? Anger coursed through her, and her eyes narrowed, glaring at him. "No! I don't see how all this can be good!" For a second she couldn't say anything more, her anger and hurt rising up and effectively cutting off all speech.

He didn't say anything, just watched her struggle for words, struggle to sort through the rage of emotions, each wanting a chance to be spoken of, acknowledged. Finally she looked at him, pleading with every fiber of her being, and all she could ask was, "Why?" She was thoroughly broken now. The tears came again, flowing freely. She slumped to her knees breathing heavily as the sobs threatened to cut off her air supply.

"How did he do it?" The question burst out, but barely a whisper.

"How did who do what, beloved?"

"Peter, how did he go on? I know how much it hurt him, the knowledge that he couldn't go back to Narnia. Then Lucy and Edmund. All of them. They could still remember, they...accepted it. How?"

"They found me, dear one."

"Found you? What do you mean, found you?" Where had they found him? Why didn't they tell her?

Oh...another memory, another time she had tried to forget. She was sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair when Peter had bounded up the stairs, ecstatic:

_"Susan! Susan!" he had called her name, sounding as if he would burst if he couldn't tell her his news. _

_"What is it Peter?" She was annoyed at having been interrupted. What could he want now?_

_"I've found him Su! He's here, like he said he was! I've found him!" He sounded like she should know what he was talking about, but she had no idea._

_"Found who, Peter?" Honestly, was she a mind reader?_

_"Aslan!" He didn't notice her back straighten, jaw tighten. Didn't notice the icy chill that flashed into her eyes, so excited was he by this news. "Only he's not called Aslan here, but then, we knew that. Of course he goes by a different name." _

_No, it was too much. He couldn't do this to her, not now when she'd found some semblance of peace. Now that she'd finally begun to move on, would he bring up the thing she had tried the hardest to forget? The pain and longing that swept through her made her lash out harsher than she intended._

_"Oh grow up, Peter! You know Aslan isn't real. He's not in another world, and he most definitely is not here. Really, you need to get a grip on reality brother, or I'll be forced to think you have gone crazy."_

_With that she stood and swept out of the room. What Peter didn't know was that she had only managed to get down the hall before she was shaking so hard that she had to stop and sit down. He didn't know she had heard his pained whisper, "Oh Susan, but he is real. He is. He's got a name. Jesus. If you only knew Susan..."_

"Jesus," she was staring wide eyed into Aslan's eyes, the truth hitting her like a battering ram.

"Yes, dear one, yes." The joy and satisfaction and love blazing out of his eyes were enough to make her cry again.

"I think," she sobbed after a moment, "I think I know some part of why this had to happen. I know why they are gone, why you took them away. Had they stayed, I would never have allowed myself to remember. By remembering them, I started to remember everything. Everything that they had been trying to get me to see for so long. The walls I had tried so hard to build came crashing down, and the masks fell off. Memories came flooding back, and I remembered. Had they stayed, I would have been too stubborn to let the walls down. I would have had no reason to remember."

Approval radiated from Aslan, showering her in peace and comfort. "They are in a better place now. They are happy."

"Aslan?"

"Yes?"

"Is it too late for me? Will I ever see them again?"

"It is not for me to say what will happen beloved." Disappointment rushed through her. "But," he continued, and hope unbidden blossomed in her chest, "follow the others' example. Find me. Know me by my other name; know me, love me and follow me, become wholly mine. Then you will, indeed, see them again."

For the first time in years, Susan felt hope, peace. Going on wasn't impossible. She saw now all the mistakes she had made, all the wrong choices and how, even though she was trying to protect herself, she had only ended up hurting even more. Now though, now she was ready to heal. Remembering didn't hurt now. Now she wasn't going to go on alone.

With a smile on her face for the first time in, she couldn't remember how long, she looked at Aslan, and with complete fervor, said, "I will Aslan, I will."

With a last smile for her, a lick to her cheek and a soft purr, he replied, "Yes, I do believe you will. Sleep now, and remember that I love you."

And so Susan slept.

Hours later she awoke. The dream she had had was so vivid, so real, that she couldn't be sure if it was really a dream or not. Not that she really cared. For the first time, she woke up hopeful, feeling as if she had been brought back from the dead. All the memories she had tried so hard to repress came flooding back, and this time, she welcomed them. As she went about her day, she found herself laughing at all the silly things she remembered Lucy doing. Lucy with the fauns, trying to learn their dances. Lucy attempting to calm an excited horse and almost getting trampled in the process. It was so freeing.

She didn't forget the last part of her dream though. As soon as she was dressed, she went out and found the little church where she knew her brothers and sister, and eventually her parents, had attended. Quietly she slipped in through the ornate little doors into the sanctuary. Nobody was around, and she slowly walked towards the altar at the front. She stood there for a few minutes, listening to the quiet, unsure of what to do. Then a voice resonated through the room, a voice that she knew, a voice that she loved, "Welcome my child. Welcome home."

With that Susan fell to her knees, crying and pouring her heart out for the first time since Narnia, knowing she was truly at home.

A/N: It has to be quite obvious that I own nothing of Narnia or Susan. I do however own the heart of Aslan :D

I never did like how C.S. Lewis never said what happened to Susan and it never sat well with me that she actually forgot. So I decided to write it how I would have wanted it to happen.

A big thanks to MyBlueOblivion for encouraging and nagging me. I owe you one!

Another huge thanks to Jeruselum for being the best friend out there and for supporting me in all my endeavors.


End file.
